I Don't Care If You're Contagious
by Symmetryforever
Summary: While Felix and Marzia are vacationing in LA, an unknown disease outbreak occurs.
1. Ibuprofen

"A new variation of the influenza virus is currently spreading across Los Angeles. Citizens should not be worried if they are taking proper precautions and visiting a doctor for a vaccination. Those sick should contact their doctor for the proper treatme-", television switched off, nothing too interesting. Just the standard precautions we're all too familiar with.

As I stand, my hand reaches upward to smooth my stubborn hair, only to have it spring back into place as soon as my hand returns to my side. The flu never worried me too much. I'm mostly prone to colds once or twice a year. While everyone was always going insane, I went about my day as usual, tolerating the smell of hand sanitizer and excessive soap that always hung in the air and if I had as much as breathed in someones direction, they would be off to the nearest sink, scrubbing away at raw skin. Considering the fact that I don't come in contact with very many people, I never had much to worry about.

I enter the kitchen and begin the process of pouring a glass of juice. I stand, one hand on the counter, the other grasping the cup. I tip the glass and the fluid passes my lips. I'm greeted by the sweet aroma of fruit and the identical taste. When I've swallowed, the light taste of sugar and fruit still lingers.

I hear the light _tap tap _of feet on the wood floor getting steadily louder. When the taps reached their max, they stopped abruptly. My head turns and I begin to make out a thin figure. After a few seconds of adjusting to the dim light in the hall where the figure stands, I can make out its long, light brown hair, a white nightgown reaching the ankle, and slippers. The hall in which she stands is very short, only consisting of a few meters worth of distance. On the right side is a bathroom door and on the left, is a door to a bedroom.

"Whats wrong?" I ask, setting the juice on my counter. "I thought you went to sleep." I walk over to her and stop a few feet in front of her. She's exaggerating a sad face.

"I'm sick." Marzia looks down.

"Aww, you're sick?" I make like I'm going to hug her and she does the same, but I pull away at the last second. "Well, I don't care!", I joke and grin.

"Hey!" She yells in an upset tone of voice, but I see a smirk play across her face as she tries to hide it.

"Aw, I'm sorry." I speak a high voice, mimicking a child and I do hug her this time. She puts her head in my chest.

"Ah, yay!" Marzia says gleefully, like she does. No matter what happens, Marzia's bubbly personality could never hide itself for long.

She pulls away and stands on her toes, trying to kiss me.

"I don't want your contamination, woman!" I yell pulling back.

"Hey! No fair!" She tries her hardest to pout, but is overcome with giggle. Soon her laughing has turned into a fit of coughs. Marzia doubles over and I reach over to rub her back, but before I can, she stands straight again, her eyes watering.

"What are your symptoms anyway?" I reach over to feel her forehead, but when my hand makes contact with her skin, I jerk it away. "How were you smiling? Jesus! Marzia, go to bed I'm going to get medicine."

"I feel a little nauseous too."

"Don't worry, our flight's first thing tomorrow." I walk over to my bag on the table that I haven't bothered to take anything out of except a change of clothes every day. We had this hotel room for only a week and this is our last day. I stick my had into the bag and rummage through junk I stuffed in here in my rush to pack. My fist closes around a small bottle and I hold it up. "What about ib-

ibo- ibe- uh..", I say, squinting at the label.

"_Ibuprofen _will be fine, Felix." Said Marzia, giggling at my foolishness.

"Here-uh-", I looked around the room, until my eyes find the counter, "Here." I offer her the bottle and my juice.

Her small fingers wrap around them, but I don't give them up yet. We both hold them, together, almost touching and gaze into each other's eyes only for a moment. Marzia wrinkles her adorable nose at me and I lean in to kiss it, but as I'm about to, she tilts her head up and catches me on the lips.

"Ha!" She cries in triumph.

"Ahh! I've been contaminated! I need the hospital!" My voice is high again. I let go of the cup and bottle to dramatically run in circles. When I stop and look at Marzia, she's grinning at me.

"Good night." She says.

"Good night." She turns and walks back with the familiar _tap tap tap _down the short hall to the bedroom.

I love her so much.


	2. The Sky Under The Sea

Marzia began to look as sick as she was as we drove to the airport. She had hardly any color and I had even asked her if she wanted to stay until she was well, to which she replied, "I just feel a little tired."

"Tired? You slept like the dead last night." I was just worried about her. We had just woke up and I had honestly expected her to be healthy as a horse by now.

"For five hours!" She tried to yell as loud as she could, but her throat was very dry.

"You're sure you only(italicize) feel tired?" She nodded rapidly. I decided we would be sitting a majority of the time anyway, whether it be in the car or plane.

Marzia was out the moment the car engine roared to life, which was good because I was worried she would get car sick or that the smell of gasoline might make her nauseous.

I take a right onto the freeway. The loud, continuous roar of neighbouring cars reminds me of a waterfall or ocean waves crashing to shore. I vaguely remember the last time we went to the beach. Marzia, in her pink bikini had refused to go further in the water than ankle deep. Whether it be because of fear, the water's temperature, or she simply didn't want to get wet, she never told me. A grin finds its way across my face as I remember her becoming utterly mortified when a group of teens recognized us both while I was carrying her and trying to dip her under the waves.

"Marzia! Felix! My name is Andrea. We all love your videos!" Said who appeared to be the oldest. She looked about seventeen with brown hair and eyes. She wore a white T-shirt and blue shorts that were both soaked. There were four people there including her. She was the only girl.

"Hey, everyone." I greeted, with a struggling Marzia in my arms who seemed like she was trying to decide whether to smile, blush, or punch me. The water was knee deep were we stood. "Could you help me get Marzia in the water?" I was joking, but she was obviously alarmed because she finally pushed her way out of my arms, resulting her landing in the water and getting soaked from the neck down. When she stood, she initially insisted on pouting, but after a few seconds, she gave into the peer pressure and began laughing with us.

The boys were howling and between laughs, Andrea tryed to speak, "Are you o- are you-" She resumed laughing after failing to speak.

I would like to say I was concerned for Marzia, even a little, but I joined the teens in laughing.

"I hate you! I hate you!" She yelled, trying to hide her smile.

Marzia had refused going to the beach ever since.

Three quarters of the way there, I hold the steering wheel firmly in my left hand, I reach my right hand over to Marzia without taking my eyes off the road. My fingers find the warmth of her shoulder and shake lightly.

"Marzia, wake up, we're almost there." I whisper.

"Huh? Oh.." I hear her shift slightly, "How much further?" She yawns.

"About ten minutes." I pull my right hand back and grab the steering wheel with it.

In my peripheral vision, I see Marzia's hand reach to the radio. What good would that do for a sick person? There's initially a loud rap song playing, resulting in Marzia grabbing her head with the hand that isn't hovering over the radio. She speedily begins changing the channels. Pop, Rock, Country... She seemingly has passed every genre by the time I speak up.

"What are you looking for? Do you want me to..?" She shakes her head.

"The news. The news about the new flu. I was listening to the radio in bed and thought I might have it, so that was when I went out to you. Now they're thinking this might be a whole other virus. I'm almost-there!" She explains. A womans voice talks quickly over the radio.

"-virus is contaminating all of Southern California at this point. Infected should avoid contact with any and all people. Until further notice, all flight from and to Southern California are cancelled." She continued talking about precautions and such, but I didn't hear. It all went out of focus for me. Cancelled? For how long. How long would we be stuck here? I see the airport ahead, which usually has planes constantly taking off, is completely still. I angrily turn the steering wheel quickly around, earning several frustrated honks for my risky U-turn. One man in a truck flips me off, but I don't care. Marzia sighs, I know she really wanted out of this place.

We need to go home.


	3. Quarantining

**Sorry for not updating in so long. It's no one's fault, but my own. Chapter threeeee.**

I assumed we might spend an extra day, maybe two at the hotel, but as day five came around, it became apparent we'd be spending quite some time here. With each passing day, I become more and more claustrophobic here, longing to be back in the flat I share with Marzia, whose condition gets worse everyday. This virus, whatever it is, Marzia has it and it's really affecting her and I'm on the verge of calling 911 (because she insists on quarantining herself inside). She's pale as a ghost and has lost weight due to her shrinking appetite. Sometimes I think the only reason she forces food down is because of my constant pleading.

That's not all, I have the news on 24/7 and all they talk about is the virus. Most of California and parts of Nevada are contaminated. Authorities are still insisting with their useless attempts of quarantining the areas. The news tries to keep panic at a low, saying the virus isn't too harmful and shouldn't last very long. I might have believed that if they weren't quarantining.

Or if Marzia didn't have it.

What scares me the most about this is the quarantining. I think of infamous diseases that wiped out billions of people in the past and notice that there was none of that. The fact that they're even _attempting _to keep contagious people away from others makes be think they're keeping a big piece of information away from the public. The world is a fast moving place, so no matter how perfect or how good of a job they think they're doing, it _will _get out eventually. This virus could be something big.

And Marzia has it.

A loud fit of coughs draws me from my thoughts. I stand quickly, retreating from the wooden chair that points to the television. The news is on, as always and the quick female voice has become a constant background noise here. I've come to find a subtle comfort in it, zoning out of reality sometimes with the company of the sound, until the words gain meaning again and their reality hits me once more.

I burst through the door. "Marzia, what's wrong?" The statement itself is foolish. With skin without color, bags under her eyes, and weighing the same as the sheet on top of her, just about everything is wrong.

"Something is...wrong..." She mutters out. She mumbles again, but the only word I can catch is different.

I take a step in her direction. "No..", She tries, but I don't care anymore, she could speak fine yesterday, even if she was still stuck in bed. Something is very wrong.

She looks like she's about to cry, her eyes pleading. She tries again, "Sto-" But the end of what she was going to say is interrupted by a heart stopping, shriek of absolute and utter terror.


End file.
